


Suit and Tie

by ChingKittyCat



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Business, Businessmen, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Graphic Descriptions of Baby Boomers, Manipulation, Sabotage, Sexism, Sexuality Crisis, Toxic Masculinity, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChingKittyCat/pseuds/ChingKittyCat
Summary: Your actions off the clock don't matter. How you got to your position doesn't either. Your work, what you do for the company, that does.-Rated T for tiny men being lowkey sexist (in future chapters) and mean words.[Fic Art](Includes minor spoilers for future characters)





	Suit and Tie

   His family took photos of him when he'd graduated business school. They'd given him kind words of affirmation for his high grades and fantastical future he had in business. They told him 'don't forget where you came from, and to send home some checks'. He was in for a great future. He was in for greatness, just like the university had promised him.

   He'd be successful.

   So when he finished the shoot of the photos, when he went back home, when he packed up his things, when he boarded a heavily fortified ship, he promised to himself that he'd be vicious. Viciousness, mercilessness, both key aspects of the university's course. He chimed it into his mind as he stared at the planet he'd left for what'd probably the last time in a while.

   The small purple planet of three yellow rings and one ring of silver. The only place he'd spent any time on, and he was leaving it. He'd already dealt with all the emotions of it earlier, but it was still a bit of a tearjerking moment. Not to mention its beauty from outer-space was unprecedented. Though, seeing it through a small window did kind of ruin it, his breath was still taken.

   He leaned back into his seat, feeling the warp drive ever so slightly flatten him. He could barely see as his planet was masked by a torrent of colors and electricity. Thankfully, because this was the modern age, the ship had warp speed internal equalizers that made it so he could sit comfortably. Sure, the warp still had some effect, but it was better than being completely pushed back into his seat.

   The flight was pleasant, albeit boring. He'd eventually closed the window once he decided to sleep, and opened it when he woke back up. The in-flight meals were decent, but considering how he was currently travelling in economic class, the most he had was prepackaged straight from the bag food. The entire time, he'd spoken as little as possible, other than to the stewards and staff.

   It was little over a few minutes until he arrived at his new place of work when the person who'd sat beside him decided to speak. He hadn't given them much thought, and it seems like they hadn't given him any either. Well, until now.

   "Where are you going to work in there?"

   They'd asked.

   "Finance, I'd hope. Anything other than public relations."

   "Not the friendly type?"

   "I'd get worn out talking to customers or people who're frustrating all day. I think anyone would."

   He didn't go to school for years just so he could get a job as a customer service representative. He didn't work for scholarships, for those good grades, for anything just to get stuck as a person who gets all those calls from people who needed help with the product they bought.

   The conversation didn't go any further than that, and the ship loaded into a large station.

   The arrival process was boring, taking fifteen minutes or more before people could leave the ship with their luggage. He hadn't brought much onto the ship in terms of luggage that he could immediately retrieve, just a briefcase. Honestly, he thought it looked pretty dashing with his blue suit.  

   The loading dock was bleak and orderly, not unlike an airport. Well, that's what it was. Just for spaceships. He didn't know why he'd expected anything else, honestly.

   As he shuffled along, he kept his hands to himself. His shoulders became more hunched as he viewed his surroundings. He withdrew, seeing the monstrous appearances of some of the others. Teeth, claws, gleaming natural weapons.. They weren't even products of the company, they were the employees. He could only hope he wouldn't have to come in contact with any product.

   He, amongst the others, was ordered into a single file line towards the reception area. He'd check his watch, if he had one. But it did take an awful long time before he himself was up to talk to one of the many receptionists behind the glass. Thankfully, he'd had more than enough time in line to pull his papers out from his briefcase.

   "Welcome to NME."

   The alien woman welcomed him flatly. He slid the papers into a small slot in the glass, which the woman looked over. Her eyes glided over all the info, she'd flip a page, go onto the next, then flip, then go back to the first.

   "You'll go into the crust skyscraper areas before your interview and assignment. First, I'm going to have to go over your personal information with you."

   Now, any normal person would've said 'whats the crust skyscraper areas', but he did his research. It was always smart to do research into a company before applying to work there. The crust was the outside of the fortress. On that crust there are skyscrapers, which are the worst level of to be in. They were basically the beginner levels.

   She held the papers to herself so he couldn't see. Not a problem, he knew what his name, age, date of birth, and planet of origin was by heart. Because literally why wouldn't he.

   "So, your name is..?"

 

* * *

 

   "Well met."

   The interviewer was a tall, muscular sort. Seemed to take after some form of.. Turtle. He wasn't exactly sure what this woman was, but he did know that she was intimidating due to sheer mass. The way she shook his hand gave her an aura of defensive strength.

   "Hope I don't come off too hostile, but your name's a bit strange, do you go by anything else?"

   She sat down in her chair, and he made his way to his. His chair was significantly less grand than hers, but that really wasn't saying much. Especially since this entire place looked pretty.. Lowbrow. As barren as possible. Maybe at one point there was more here, or maybe it was just scant as to dissuade people from the riches that laid deeper in the company line.

   "No, sorry."

   He apologized, and she hummed, looking over her papers. She'd lined up some notes to be taken, and some specific questions to be asked. He could tell because he could literally see the paper with all the questions on them.

   "Should we get to it, then?" She asked, not looking up at him.

   "I've been looking forward to it, so yes."

   She smiled at his enthusiasm, though he felt like she'd forced it. He couldn't exactly tell, but considering how many times she might've had to do this, he was considering it. She held some papers.

   "You've said here that you graduated at.."

   She squinted down at the text, trying to make sense of it.

   "It's a complicated name, I know where I graduated."

   "Your species loves it's complicated names, doesn't it?" She humored, unsquinting from the text to look him directly in the glasses.

   "If it's not a complicated name, there's no point. They're seen as classier, the more complicated they are."

   "I see."

   She looked him in his glasses. She seemed rather disconcerted that she couldn't see his eyes behind the opaque lenses.

   "Your sunglasses, could you take them off?"

   She requested, and he gave her a look of slight shock at the request.

   "I'm.. No, I'm afraid I cannot."

   She looked at him oddly, considering his response. She wrote something down on her paper, and he immediately thought it was some sort of mark against him. Maybe if she just knew more about him, she'd know why he could not take his glasses off. Oh well.

   He'd waited too long to tell her, so whatever.

   "Your grades look fantastic, and your recommendations are just stunning. You've very much ascended beyond the eighty percent average we expect from our employees. You've been noted to be," she picked up a stray piece of paper to read it directly, "'so studious that you put success above health of self and others', can you say this is right?"

   "Yes," he responded simply, "I can say that success is my number one priority, no matter what."

 

* * *

 

   He was not placed in finance. He was placed in sales. Sales, of all places, he had to be placed in sales. Why. Why. They didn't even provide him any reason when they'd assigned him to his position as a sales associate. Call him prissy, but he wanted more than just to be some rando salesperson. He graduated from a top university, spent years on his life on a special degree, stressed for nights on end, all to be Customer Service?

   To say he didn't take well to the job was a natural, as when he sat down in the cubicle they'd provided to him, he couldn't help but scowl. As his ears flooded with noise of all the other miscreants here, working, working the job they deserved but he didn't. Because he was better than this.

   Than this drab room, these identical cubicles, these phone lines, these customers. He wanted more, and by the Stars above he would get exactly what he deserved. How, oh how, though..

   His phone rang. He looked at it blankly, and thought of what a telemarketer would do. What actors did, what the people he despised the jobs of had to do. He had no briefing, no training on being a nice person, now he was expected to do it.

   He took his hand to his mouth and with his thumb and pointer finger, put his fingers on either sides of his lips and forced them directly upwards. His muscles locked into place, and the stiff cat-like smile hooked onto his face. He picked up the phone.

   "Hello! Thank you for calling Nightmare Enterprise's Customer Service, how can I assist you today?"

   His voice was friendly and nice sounding. It was impossible to sound like one hated their job with a smile on their face. Yes, he would be able to work with this. He had advantages others didn't. Even if holding a smile like this strained his ego and his muscles.

 

* * *

 

   The hours were long and the pay was meager. Mostly due in part to the fact that everyone had in-base meals and in-base rooms. Sure, the place where he'd been forced to sleep was among multiple other people in a large room crammed with bunkbeds, but not everyone got to have the real fancy rooms. You had to work your way up to that, he'd heard.

   He looked through his briefcase again, to make sure the things he'd left in there were fine. Everything seemed to be fine, dandy. Pictures of his family, his planet, and a few other things. It was mostly just a case full of personal items, nothing of any monetary value. Not like he even really needed it, he worked of sales of all places.

   He'd slid his briefcase underneath his pillow after he was finished with it, not bothering to say anything to the person in the top bunk, despite the fact that they seemed to be very restless up there, talking to someone on their phone. It wasn't any of his business, and he certainly wasn't going to ask. Besides, if he'd tried to tell them to be quiet, he'd certainly get some flak.

   Because this large 'bedroom' was never, ever quiet.

   The best he could hope for was that his blanket and hands, as well as his pillow and it's 'support' would be able to muffle noise enough for him to sleep. He didn't even need much, just four hours. That was the very minimum. A maximum was six.

   He did have some success, waking up with exactly three and a half hours of sleep. He'd woken up early because someone, something, some sort of horrid creature, was right in his face. It had a weird, warped expression, lacking a bottom jaw to allow a plethora of teeth to just constantly hang down, and a singular eye which bore a greatsword directly into his tender psyche.

   Its body was this purpilish, rotted looking color, and honestly, just looking at it more and more made him further frightened and further paled. Despite the fact that it had his briefcase in its hands, he couldn't croak anything out other than a scared wheeze. All he could do was stare back, terrified of the alien that he was looking dead in the face.

   He had his opaque sunglasses on, so it must've thought he was still asleep. It just blinked, took the briefcase, then turned to quietly walk away. That's, of course, when he immediately shot up.

   "Thief!" He'd screamed, "Thief!"

   The alien panicked and dropped the briefcase, scampering off towards other bunkbeds to avoid persecution. He'd removed himself from his bed and grabbed his briefcase, almost entirely clung to it due to his small size. Two guards wandered over to him as he'd picked his things back up.

   "You're certainly making a ruckus."

   Was what one of the 'Air-riders' had said. Not riding on air at all or anything, guy was just on the ground.

   "I was screaming about a thief, I thought that was allowed."

   "Well, it is," the air-rider just wasn't too pleased, seemingly, by how early in the morning it was, "just wish it wasn't right now that you're doing this. I get tired too, y'know. Anyways, what'd they look like and why do you think they were trying to take your stuff?"

   His whole case maybe took him a couple minutes to explain. The description of the alien, now that took him the majority of the minutes. Just trying to recall it gave him a terrible case of the shakes. He was never one who could take.. Monster-like imagery very well. Maybe not the best thing, considering where he was working.

   After he was done his explanation, the air-rider was kind enough to leave him alone as he wandered off to go get to work.

 

* * *

 

   He wasn't one for watercooler talk, nor was he one for associate talk. No one from his species really communicated the best through outgoing words, the most enjoyable time was spent quietly, among others who did the exact same activity as eachother. All that he was in the breakroom for was his coffee, and after he was done making it, he was leaving.

   But two other aliens, both of which he refused to look at because they made his hair stand on end. All he had to focus on was the coffee and the machine. That, and the sound of their voices. They spoke low, in whispers, so that way the surveillance cameras and audio feeds couldn't pick up what they were saying over the coffee pot.

   "I would too."

   "Madame high and mighty. I heard she does things to people who mess up around her. Like, she forces them to do whatever she wants, like, y'know, favors," he'd noticed how 'favors' was emphasized almost disgustingly, "or else she'll fire them. Just burn them. Burn her. We've got some form of y'know, rules, or whatever, you don't just.. Have that happen. Have a person like that in power in a company this big."

   "This place is evil. We sell monsters. We're literally working for an evil monopoly."

   "I think it doesn't have to be an evil monopoly if the people in charge were different. Maybe we wouldn't be sleeping in those gross bunk beds with crime and stuff happening all the time."

   "What did you expect."

   "Stop saying that."

   "Well?"

   "I'm allowed to complain, I don't like you getting on my case."

   He'd looked down at his coffee. Then he'd left the room while the two aliens kept blabbering on about this unnamed woman.

 

* * *

 

   Sleeping at his desk was a miserable experience. There was no comfort in it. Mostly due to the fact that they'd not nearly been outfitted for sleeping at, like he desks he'd had back at home. But honestly, sleeping somewhere where guards patrolled and a security officer was in walking distance was immediately more comforting. So he, like others— as he'd seen from going past a few cubicles— moved himself into his workspace.

   He'd put his blanket around his chair and his pillow against his back while he wasn't asleep, then whipped it out and put it straight onto the desk when he was. His sleep was very dry and not very easy to come across. The noise of the room around him and the fact that he hadn't bought any earmuffs didn't help. He grunted and groaned, folding the pillow over his head as he tried to get some rest in a brightly lit, very noisy room.

   All he needed was maybe three hours at minimum then he'd be back up for the rest of the week. But nothing was so kind as to give him relief from consciousness. He eventually drearily lifted his head, miserably looked towards the 'state of the art' computer at his desk, then figured to get some work done instead.

   He tapped away at his keyboard, answered calls while forcing his facial muscles to lock into a smile, then kept working until he was basically reduced to a snails pace because he kept dozing off. However, as he kept engaging his mind, he found that he could beat away the desire to sleep by being successful. By finishing the things he needed to do on the computer, he at least made himself look less miserable. It certainly helped that he'd kept his smile on.

   He got a distinct feeling someone was watching him after a decently long portion of time. Sure enough, someone was watching him. The person in the cubical next to his. It wasn't a neighbor on one of his sides, rather, it was the neighbor he could see when he looked directly forward. They leaned over the wall seperating the two of them.

   "Hey."

   The alien greeted. He scanned their face, seeing them to be a sort of elf creature. They seemed to have a feminine voice, so he assumed they were.. Well, y'know, a girl. She had four eyes, all narrow and pointed, as well as a little cat nose. A fellow cat-like? How nice. There was one thing that was especially striking about her, though, and that was the literal stars in her eyes. They were faint, but he could see them.

   "How can I help you?" He asked, getting a scoff out of her from his forced friendliness.

   "I'm not a customer. You're a really bad actor, by the way, I can smell you're faking from a mile away."

   He had no response for her, and the awkward silence stretched on. He didn't know who this woman thought she was, but he was going to try and get her to squirm off back to her own cubical.

   "Here," she reached behind her cubical and pulled up a set of earmuffs, "you want to borrow mine?"

   It's a good thing he'd locked his smile in place or else he might've gone a little too revealing. He stared at the muffs for a moment, then her— not that she could see due to his shades.

   "That'd be very nice of you."

   He answered. She handed over the earmuffs to him, and though they were obviously made for a different species, he figured they'd be fine for him as well, just a little bit big.

   "What's your name?" He continued.

   "You don't care."

   She was right.

 

* * *

 

   He was in the breakroom with his neighbor from the cubical. He was having coffee, she was eating some sort of.. Odd thing. It looked like the carcass of a bug with a bunch of soup and vegetarian noodles in it, but it could've been a decorative bowl she just kept around because she was quirky. For his own sanity, he assumed it was the latter.

   "I've been working here for four years." She said between slurps, the wiggly things hitting her cheeks and slapping the soup onto her purple-ish skin.

   "Oh, I'm sorry."

   "Not like you being sorry about it is going to change anything, buddy."

   "No one should have to be in retail for that long."

   "Well, thanks for the sentiment. Honestly, I'm starting to get the feeling that the only reason this place has a 'you can only get in if you got to business school and get really good grades' is to look good."

   "Mm," he swished his coffee around lightly, idle about the topic, "all companies want to look good. If they can get the smartest staff they can, if they can afford to do it, then they should. This is an elite corporation that sends elite products to elite customers, that's just how things are."

   "Even the janitors have to go to business school. Those guys that mop the floors."

   "Only the best can mop the floors in the best company."

   "You're a bootlicker." She smiled over her soup, her eyes narrowing judgmentally.

   "If you want to get anywhere from the bottom of the chain, you need to be."

   "Oh, yeah? How's that working out, Customer Service?"

   "It'll work out eventually."

   He kept his smile on, drank his coffee, put the mug in the sink (with water), then left her there to eat her noodles in peace. She seemed to smile confidently from the silent agreement that she'd 'won' the conversation from her sheer sass.

   When he'd returned to his desk, he noticed a new email in his inbox. It seemed to be site-wide. He read it over carefully.

   'Employees of Nightmare Enterprises,' it began, 'with the quarter coming to an end, we remind you about the following; parties should be contained within designated rooms and not to cubicles or offices. Parties are to be cleaned up by host and goers, not janitors. Parties are not to contain alcohol, illegal substances, derogatory language, derogatory / loud music, an unhealthy selection of foods, or inappropriate physical contact. Parties should not contain explosives (i.e. fireworks, sparklers), weaponry (i.e. waterguns, real guns, pool noodles, swords), or games deemed unsafe. The banned games are listed on the link provided [ here ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzMq5_thk4o). Parties should not go on for an inappropriate amount of time.'

   He scrolled through most of the email, getting through the long text of boring drabble that he wouldn't really violate anyways. Then, he noticed something that was particularly interesting about the email. One section.

   'Automated reminder this quarter to report any Star Warrior to the nearest authorities. Star Warriors are a danger to your safety and to the safety of the company. Star Warriors not only seek to undermine your job, but monsters will become restless and are more likely to break out of temporary containment if they sense a Star Warrior nearby. Star Warriors can be your neighbors, your colleagues, your friends, or even your family. Check for a Star Warrior through one simple inspection; if the person has 'stars in their eyes', in a very literal sense, they are likely to be a Star Warrior.

   All those who report Star Warriors accurately will be rewarded for their efforts to keep Nightmare Enterprises a safe place to work and live. If you suspect someone is a Star Warrior, please use the phone nearest to you, press 9, then dial 51475.'

   He didn't even think about it. He had no hesitation as he picked up his phone, pressed nine, then dialed the number onscreen. The phone rang for a moment, and the woman on the other side was very happy to listen to him talk about his cubical neighbor. He told them of the stars in her eyes, and the woman on the other time was very receptive.

   He didn't know her name, but he did have his own location and cubical number down to memory. He gave the woman directions to his, and he noted how she was just right next to him. He gave a description of her, and in his mind all he thought of was the fat paycheck he'd get from helping the good, higher up folk.

 

* * *

 

   The quarterly party was mostly just fellow retail workers. No one really worth mingling with, and those who he did bother to talk to were just absolutely a drag to talk to. Thanks to him locking a smile on his face, he got out of it pretty well. Not that it would matter in the long run.

   It was another day with more work to do. He'd taken calls, he'd read emails, gone through new things on the company website, everything else that was normal. It was just as busy and noisy as any other day was bound to be. He yawned a bit at the monotonous nature of it, rousing the idea of coffee. He got up from his little chair and was about to head out of his cubical.

   However, someone was in the way. They were dressed in a suit and tie. They were very clearly a white collar worker, not only by the way they appeared, but also by the fact that they wore such a collar. They'd made sure to pop it out just to assure that everyone saw what designation of worker they were. They were a four armed alien with a very sharp, insect-like face. They looked like they were made to scurry around very, very quickly. The sort of creature that would make a perfect door to door salesman.

   "I bet you're wondering why I'm down here with you pink collars." The insect proposed the hypothetical, keeping him from leaving by having one lower arm on the doorway; blocking it in its entirety.

    "It's an honor to have you here with us pink collars, sir."

   The words felt like poison in his mouth. The admittance to being lower than someone made a bile rise in him. The insect's half-lidded, lax expression seemed pleased from the submission, though.

   "I know it is. Anyways, I'm here to tell you that you really helped out, told us about.. Well, you know. So you're not in trouble. I'm here to reward you."

   The blase way the insect went on about this pretty serious topic told him plenty about what this person was like. Not that he minded too much, he smiled all the way through it at the thought of being rewarded.

   "We have a few selections for you to choose from."

   "I'd like to be moved into finances, if possible. If not, I'd like to just.. See what it's like deeper in the company."

   The bug hummed at his requests. They looked him over with their weird bug eyes, seemingly examining him for something, before shrugging. Their antenna wiggled a bit as they considered it.

   "I can give you a tour deeper down, sure. I'll keep you updated on that move to finances, Customer Service."

   If he didn't have the ability to lock his smile on, it probably would've twitched at the usage of his job in replacement for his actual name. He wasn't some nameless slave who went by his jobs name. He was an individual with a name, a family, and an entire life worth of experiences behind him. He would have to stand for this reduction of personhood, though, he wanted a better job.

   "I appreciate it, sir, thank you."

   "Polite one, aren'tcha?"

   "This is a sophisticated environment, it's only right to be calm, collected, and polite to one another in the workroom."

   "Well, being polite and kind gets you places if you do it with the right people. Anyways, I can give you a tour now. I'll relieve you of your shift and you can follow me around. Just make sure you stay close to me. Stay there, I'm going to go talk to your manager."

   The insect turned tail and walked off. All he did was sit right back down in his chair. He hadn't bothered to check his neighbor lately, but considering the conversation he'd just had, he was more than confident her cube had been cleaned out.

   He'd kept her earmuffs. She probably wouldn't need them wherever she was now.

   It was a quick minute before the insect was back, motioning for him to follow. Like a obedient little boy, he jumped out of his chair and followed the tall insect closely. Out of the factory-like call center to the hallways, going through doors he'd been familiar with then in through doors he wasn't familiar with. The insect had swiped a keycard across a little lock, causing the door to open. He took mental note of that, seeing as how he himself was without any keycards.

   The two walked through halls silently until they eventually reached somewhere. He could feel the air was slightly warmer, the walls were differently painted, the floors had guiding lines on them.. There were even plants. He took particular notice to the plentiful amount of sprinklers in the hallways, as well as the higher ceilings. There was almost an ungodly amount of sprinklers, he couldn't fathom why they'd need so many.

   The insect paused, deciding which way to go before going down the right hall from the t-shaped intersection. They were happy to gesture at each clearly marked door as they passed by them.

   "This is IT," they explained, "IT here," they passed by another door, "this is more IT-"

   The tour continued with the two essentially just doing a whole introduction to this much higher class working place. As they walked through, he thought of a question.

   "How would you think someone like me would get in here?"

   "Work your butt off for a couple years, you'll get in here."

   "What methods would you recommend?"

   "Start talking to people on the company-wide forums we have, on the company social media, and other stuff. Get as many higher contacts as possible, it'll probably help when you apply for a promotion to the deeper levels."

   He committed their words to memory as they rattled it off so easily. It sounded.. Weird that he had to apply for a promotion, though. The question was.. How many years of retail work and networking would he have to do before he got up here? The idea of being stuck in a callcenter for as long as that one woman was.. Eugh.

   "Kids like you, straight out of university, usually have to actually work a few years in the outer levels before you can manage to get in deeper. It's a program to determine work ethic. Those who're smarter, stick around longer, prove to be more resourceful, they all get in deeper. Those who don't have the work ethic or the personality we're looking for stay in the outer layers. We use retail and harder, more 'degenerate' work like that in order to keep the egoists out and the modest, hard working people in. It usually works."

   The insect continued, not even bothering to motion at the doors they were passing now.

   "Makes sense." He agreed.

   "It's hard to find good, committed people nowadays."

   "I heard people call this an 'evil monopoly'," he scoffed, "but I believe it's just because they lack drive, so they blame the system around them rather than their own incompetence at their job."

   "Nightmare Enterprises is nowhere near an evil monopoly."

   "Couldn't agree more."

   "We ship out resources," the insect began to associate each thing they listed with a finger on their hands, "employees, support, technology, medicine, entertainment, all these great things, yet people still call us a 'evil monopoly'. We do nothing but good, progressive work, but because it makes money and because it's successful we're evil. People just hate progress, they just hate the fact someone has money because they worked for it."

   "Capitalism is often demonized for no good reason. Socialists, communists, eco-terrorists.." He listed off each with a hum-haw attitude, "They're all the same. They don't have any real arguments against capitalism. It's the best system, literally no huge community, not a single planet uses those medieval ideologies on a wide-scale, unlike capitalism."

   "I think you'll fit well in finance."

   The insect nodded. Knowing he'd satiated the other's ego by agreeing with whatever they said, he was satisfied. It's a good thing he didn't have to blatantly lie about his own ideology, he did truly speak from the heart.

   He nearly yelled in alarm at the sound of a sudden blaring in the hallway. The lights almost immediately changed to a dangerous red, loud noise of warning blaring through unseen speakers. The bug gasped, meanwhile he was looking around panicked. The other almost immediately took off without a single word, and he was smart enough to follow.

   He was not as nimble as the longer legged creature, nor was he has fit. However, something told him that the silent state of panic the bug was in was beyond reason for him to be scared.

   "W-What's going on!?" His voice was already strained with exhaustion.

   "It's a monster breakout!"

   The desperation in the other's voice made his blood run faster, and his little leg-less feet go much swifter. Monsters could mean death; those things couldn't be controlled by anyone or anything. As far as he knew, at least.

   As they ran, they were joined by more and more distressed people. It seemed like ages they were just trying to get to this supposedly existent saferoom. By the time they were there, though, it was.. A closed door. A gigantic, solid steel door that he assumed was like an elevator's door in the way it operated; sliding on its own accord and timeline.

   And the timeline now said it had to be closed.

   People banged on the door, pushing eachother and trying to rip at the little space between the two solidly shut mechanized steel plates to force it to open. Nothing budged. He could hardly breathe in the crowd. So, realizing he was stuck, he fled somewhere else. Decidedly, into a nearby room which had been opened and left open in all the panic. Some people had the same idea, including the white collar bug alien who'd been showing him around until now.

   It was an IT room, full of multiple desks and chairs in a sort of 'bullpen' style set up. That meant no one had offices, every single desk could be visible from the door, and there were generally no walls so everything could be seen easily. The few things that were there other than the desks and chairs was a single lounge with two beanbags and a sofa.

   He dashed immediately behind the sofa, a few other aliens he didn't know doing the same thing. With their help, he managed to maneuver the sofa away from the door and to barricade a corner.

   They were all rather squished together much to his discomfort, but comfort didn't matter much right now. He just needed to stay as quiet as he possibly could. The others did their best to copy him. The lights continued to blare, which helped to ensure their breaths weren't heard. However, that didn't block out the louder sounds of yelling.

   It went on for maybe about two minutes before some yelling and screaming got really loud. He tried to cover his ears with his hands, but the noise pierced through anyways. He heard the crackling of fire, and screams that sounded less fearful and more painful.

   He'd begun to whimper, not even realizing he was doing so as he trembled alongside the other employees. The light of fire breached through the door of the room, the orange coloring distorting the white florescence faintly. The smell of smoke became more poignant, and screams began to die out in favor of fire's roaring.

   No. Wait. That's not the fire roaring. That's a monster. It was growing closer too.

   "I don't wanna die," he'd repeated to himself over and over, like it'd help stay off death.

   Each roar blazed a distinctness into his mind, making sure that he knew what exactly was causing this. It sounded like that. Something rumbling, something deep and powerful was causing this and he had no control over whether he was going to get out unscathed.

   He'd coughed alongside some of the other sheltering employees, feeling the ash invade his body. He should probably move his hands to his mouth, but he'd dug his fingers into the side of his head in comfort, pressing harshly against his ears with his palms. He'd long since squeezed his eyes closed to shut the world out moreso.

   One roar sounded like it was right outside the door. No one behind the couch dared to peek out of their safety, but they heard fire growing closer and the sound of tables being moved around roughly. Pounding footsteps of something strong vibrated the floor underneath him. Then, as quickly as it was there, it was gone. It left only fire and terror.

   It continued like that for maybe ten or so minutes in silence, just the ambiance crackling of fire, blaring lights, and audible fear. Coughs became more and more, but a faint look up allowed to see the smoke being sucked up into the very active ventilation system. None of them were going to die through smoke inhaltation, at least not too quickly.

   It was a long, drawn out time to spend in that room. Each second seemed like a minute, and time warped around psyches still reeling from the roars of a beast that had since left. The sound of people entering the room, the noise of fire extinguishers, and the approach of someone near to the couch was next.

   "Is everyone back here okay?"

   He barely heard them because he'd pressed so hard against his ears, and he refused to remove them. He was still trembling from it all, and the soft noises of everyone else made it clear to whoever their rescuer was that no one was all too good.

   They'd reached their hand down and slowly escorted the survivors of that beast up, including him and the bug alien he'd been shown around with. He took the floor like he'd never walked, only ever stood in one place. He had to be guided by his arm out the door, then slowly back to the upper levels where he worked normally. They'd told him things that he wasn't exactly listening to.

   When he sat down back at his desk alone, he spent multiple minutes looking around like he was lost. Then, he settled to bring out his pillow, earmuffs, and tried to sleep off what'd happened.

   His dreams were far from peaceful.

 

* * *

 

   The wailing of sirens burned into his ears and snapped him awake, and into red alert. His office was filled with red, flashing lights of emergency. He looked around quickly, desperately, getting what valuable things he needed and quickly scrambled out to go join his co-workers at the muster point. They were all as equally panicked as he was. Someone couldn't get this far down in the company without realizing what those lights meant.

   By how panicked he was, anyone could tell he knew far too well what they meant.

   Regardless, his swiftness was nothing to spit at. The only people who beat him were the people who'd had offices closer to the point than he did. He was very much high strung and willing to book it at any point. So, getting into the strong room was less than difficult for him.

   Getting into a nice, proper corner was harder, though. By the time he got there, people were already huddled in most of the corners. Honestly, he would've preferred if he got the corners but oh well. Getting here early allowed him to at the very least get a reasonably decent spot amongst the flood of white collar workers.

   Amongst the aliens in suits and proper attire, the little man that he was was essentially safe. The countdown of the strong room being locked ticked down, as he watched less and less people coming in. Once the trickle had stopped, the doors had closed, locked, and the fluorescent lights of the strong room had turned off. The only lights now were the soft red bulbs high on the walls, unreachable.

   Soft, worried chatter was faint in the room. What wasn't faint was the smell of sweat and other pungent odors. From the amount of endless work they had to do, the lack of hygiene was positively revolting but not unexpected. It was times like this that he was very thankful that he was not a creature who sweat himself, because unlike these other people, he was professional. He kept his terror and bodily secretions to himself.

   The door began to heat up, a large and bulbous red mark forming before the middle turned orange, then yellow, then white. Burning through then exploding through the metal door came a creature purely made of fire. He couldn't distinguish what it was, but it was there. It charged at the now screaming mass of people, opening its lashing maw to unleash a beam of painful death upon all those it claimed as its victims.

   Including him.

   Fire engulfed him, dancing on his skin and making his body flake away. He tried to struggle against it, but he didn't have much time. Because as soon as he'd opened his mouth to scream in pain, he'd woken up.

   He was back in the call center, screaming as he fell out of his chair and onto the floor with a terribly loud clatter. He'd disturbed the peace around him as he tried to assert himself as to where he was, what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Mumbles of shock and annoyance came quick to him, and the smell of sweat continued to burn in his nose.

   He'd gasped and heaved himself back onto his feet, picked up his chair and sat back in it quickly. He was fast enough to look like he was completely fine when his manager came into his cubical, looking concerned.

   "Was that you screaming?" They'd asked.

   "No, it wasn't."

   "Well.. Alright."

   Then they left him to his own devices.

 

* * *

 

   Perhaps if he had something under his glasses, he would've had eyebags. However, no eyebags were present on his face despite his sleeplessness. He was tired as all sin, but no matter how hard he tried to settle on his desk, he simply could not catch it. He had everything meant for sleep, he'd even spent over an hour trying, but nothing came to him. All that came were thoughts. Loud, loud thoughts.

   Removing his earmuffs, he got up from his desk and promptly exited his cubical, trying not to slouch as he passed by the co-workers he never bothered to learn the names of.

   He moved out of the room entirely and chose a direction, then started walking. Down the halls, getting himself immediately lost. Well, he'd be fine because there were maps on literally every wall, but still. It was a little pleasant to just wander around, plus it burned off more energy to help him eventually and maybe go to sleep.

   As he walked, he noticed a little restaurant. Noting how his body would always get more tired after eating, he entered. Taking in the sights, the restaurant was a sushi bar. It didn't have a conveyor belt or anything like some of the newer ones, it was just a single circular counter around a chef. It seemed like it was pretty busy at this hour, a few people were sat around the counter.

   He joined them and the chef noticed him pretty quickly. He looked the chef over, internally laughing at the irony of their existence. The chef was an octopus creature, tentacles sprouting out from underneath a blue sea-inspired dress thing. They wielded tools to make sushi, like knives or plates to place them on. They were very busy looking.

   They approached him.

   "What would you like?"

   A woman, telling from the voice. He thought for a moment.

   "I need something that'll calm me down and help me sleep."

   He answered softly, almost reserved sounding. It was just a symptom of the sleepiness, he told himself. She smiled down at him lightly then went off to go prepare him something. It took a minute or two, but soon enough there was.. Something on a plate infront of him. It was wrapped in this weird black tape thing around the side with a bunch of stringy stuff coming out of it. He looked down at it like he'd just been served grass.

   "It's jellyfish." She assured him.

   "Jellyfish?"

   "At NME," she smiled, "there's a specific jellyfish they mass produce for prescription sleeping drugs and stuff. It's got a chemical in it that calms people down. They're called Ththesium jellyfish. If you eat them, you'll be calm."

   He was about to push the plate away from him, but thinking about it, it'd be fine. It's not like he was taking something that'd make him hallucinate, it's literally just a drugged jellyfish that helps him sleep. Much better than a pill or a tablet or anything like that.

   "I was just wondering what a jellyfish was but that's interesting to know.."

   He trailed off slightly, and she got a little flustered from over-explaining. She moved one of her tentacles over to one side of the kitchen and grabbed a picture frame, bringing it to the counter. In it was a picture of a weird.. Mushroom thing.

   "That's a jellyfish!" She chirped, "It doesn't have any brain, it's just a bunch of nerves floating around in space or in seas. It eats smaller fish, eggs, or little microanimals."

   As she explained, he decided to bite into the sushi she'd prepared for him. It tasted a bit not to his liking, but it wasn't bad enough to stop eating completely or anything. It took a couple seconds, but he felt his mind clear up and his consciousness droop.

   "The ones we mass produce are bio-luminescent and green, so basically they glow green. I have to take off all the green parts before serving them, though, so don't worry about anything glowing in your stomach."

   He looked at her blankly and silently, and for a moment, she looked silently back.

   "I think you should pay me now." She suggested.

   "I.. Uh.. Alright.."

   He'd mumbled, pulling out his wallet and depositing some of his hard earned cash on the table. She scooped up the proper amount and left the rest for him to put back, giving him a polite smile he recuperated to the best of his ability.

   He finished up the rest and he immediately fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

   He later awoke with a start, breaking from his sleep as something clattered in the room. His startle was quick to wake him up, and he had to keep himself from screaming in alarm. A weird whistling noise came out of his open mouth instead. Embarrassingly, he noticed he was still in the sushi restaurant and he had a blanket draped over his shoulders. It nearly fell off him as he woke up, sitting up almost straight.

   The source of noise was just some other customer accidentally dropping a plate. Nothing much else. Someone was already over cleaning it up and that's about it. The chef noticed how he was up and looking around again.

   "Good morning!"

   She took the blanket off of him with one of her tentacles, stuffing it under the counter after folding it up neatly. He'd gotten a glimpse of what looked to be more blankets under there before she'd blocked the view with her blue dress thing.

   "I think you should go to a therapist or a doctor."

   Her statement caught him offguard and he looked at her with a measure of confusion. He scanned her red octopus face for some explanation, but she was just smiling. Was it a joke?

   "I uh.. Okay..?" He tried to placate her through agreement, though bewildered by the line of questioning.

   "I thought you were cold while you were sleeping, so I put a blanket on you. But you didn't stop shaking. So whatever that's about, you should probably get that checked out."

   She suggested, making eyecontact with him. He held it for only a couple moments, then he looked down at the counter in an almost guilty fashion. Those dreams he was having, just had, they weren't pleasant. But to go to a therapist?

   "Thank you for the advice." He didn't look at her.

   "Come in more often. People from downstairs call me Sushi Chef, but my name is actually Eri. What's your name?"

   "..I should go."

   "Oh, yeah, you probably should get to work," she said, not sounding disappointed at all, "see you later! Come back any time."

   He didn't look at her as he left the restaurant either. He made his way back to his cubical with little to no issue. As soon as he was back, he checked to make sure everything was there. After all was accounted for, he locked a smile on his face and began to take the customer service calls of the day.


End file.
